Thursday, December 5, 2013

Rocky, the dog on the 3rd floor

Life has the habit of throwing your
past at you in the most unexpected ways. So, today I pen this tribute in the
memories of Rocky, only hours after dreaming about him all of a sudden.

Rocky was the pet dog who had his home
in the 4th floor of my building. He was a white dog (speech or whatever they
call it, I am not very good in differentiating the breeds). I grew up with him
and even though he wasn't my dog, I would often bump into him and pat him. At
times, I would even visit his house upstairs to play with him. And yes, I also
tried to ride him. Hehe. But he would wriggle ahead and I could never quite
mount him technically.

Actually, he was a she. Technically, a
bitch, a female dog. But I grew up referring to him as a he and that image has
stuck. Besides, he was named Rocky by Pappu Bhaiya who had brought him from a
local market way back in the 90s. I was quite small that time, but I vividly
remember the first time I met Rocky. Pappu Bhaiya brought him to my house. Wrapped
in a red cloth, he was a tiny ball of white furs with two bulb-like eyes
curiously observing the world around him.

I cherish the few memories I have of
him. I remember how he would stick his tongue out every time I blew air into
his eyes. That was our way of expressing love for each other.

Rocky died some 8-10 years back. I
wasn't in regular touch with him during his final years but when I heard of his
demise, I felt a deep sense of emptiness in my life.

Life moved on and my memories of him
got buried beneath a pile of other more recent memories (involving my college,
dates, crushes and diseases). And last night, out of nowhere, he just visited
me in my dreams, accepting my pats and air-kisses for a few evanescent moments
before melting out of sight and going back to where he came from.

And when I woke up, I felt numb and
experienced gloom and was left shaken. And all those deeply buried memories of
him resurfaced in my mind for seconds before plunging deep again, sucking me in
along with them, into a past where a happy tiny school boy was prancing around
a fluffy white dog, blowing air into his curious bulb-like eyes.

PS- The above image has been taken from Google. Sadly, I don't have any pic of Rocky since we didn't have flashy camera phones in that era. But he pretty much looked like this.

Oh dear! You have made me remember and miss my Timmy. I will write a post about him too. I smiled when you said "Actually, he was a she.' :)Your love for Rocky speaks more about you as a person than about the dog in the picture. :)

I can understand. I too had a dog exactly like your Rocky in looks. He was an American Spitz and died some seven years back but honestly, even now I feel his presence around me...I will never be able to forget my best friend, my beloved pet.

“There's always room for a story that can transport people to another place.” ― J.K. Rowling

About Me

When he realized that he wasn’t made out for a corporate job, Ritesh Agarwal quit CA and took up writing as a full-time profession. He also enjoys teaching, taking amateurish photographs with his over-expensive camera and penning short stories (when he is not procrastinating, that is). Having reviewed dozens of books by dozens of authors, he is hoping that someday somebody would review ‘Lovelets’, the anthology in which he finally got published.
A multi-tasker at heart, he is also planning a career in baby-sitting and story-reading. If you have lots of babies or just wish to indulge in bookish chitchats, you can catch him at Facebook on www.facebook.com/RiteshIsGreatest or toss a friendly email at ritzy182000@gmail.com